


tell me i'm deserving

by ftmsteverogers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: FTM Dean Winchester, Light Bondage, M/M, Trans Dean Winchester, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftmsteverogers/pseuds/ftmsteverogers
Summary: “Is this why you keep hurting yourself?” Cas spat out. “Because you think I’ll always put you back together when you’re done?”“I’m not — hurting myself —” Dean tried, but Cas was pressing a palm to his stomach and he cried out, pain white-hot. “Stop, okay, Jesus, you’ve made your point —”“I ought to leave you here, bleeding,” Cas hissed. “If you are going to keep undoing my hard work over and over.”





	tell me i'm deserving

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really go here anymore, but no one writes trans Dean and it's my God-given duty to fill that void with fic written by an actual trans man. 
> 
> General content warnings (especially for trans people) are in the end notes.
> 
> The song this title is from is called "Godsend" by Trebuchet and it's as holy as a song can be.

The brick wall was solid at Dean’s back, and he was grateful for it as he braced his hands on his knees. The cold night air was icy, but it felt good after sweating through that kind of fight, it cooled the sweat that was drying between his shoulder blades. He watched his panting breaths fog in front of his lips as Sam packed up the car again. Gun, salt, knife, holy water, spare ammo; there was something comforting about watching them all get put back into their rightful places.

Sam’s mouth was tight, twisted into a little frown. Dean resolved to tell him a stupid joke to try and smooth out the crease between his eyebrows, just as soon as he felt like he could talk without wheezing.

“Hanging in there?” Sam asked as he wrestled their shotguns back into the Impala’s trunk.

Dean shot him a thumbs up, other hand pressing a balled-up rag to his stomach.

He was vaguely aware that he was bleeding through the rag, though. He couldn’t really feel the pain — he was too hopped up on adrenaline to feel more than numb and kind of uncomfortable — but his stomach was sticky-hot when he peeled up the cloth to poke at it, and the dull ache only reinforced the knowledge of how much this was going to suck the next morning.

“You good to walk?” Sam asked him eventually, closing the trunk with a heavy thud. “Or do I have to come over there and haul you to the car?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, and pushed himself off of the wall with a grimace. “I can walk just — oh. Hey, Cas.”

Sam flinched back, as always, when Cas materialized. Dean had only just stopped doing the same. Anything that could appear randomly whenever it pleased with the weight of that much power behind it wasn’t usually friendly, and it was difficult to unlearn the particular fear-reflex that had them reaching for their knives before they recognized the trench coat.

Dean wasn’t sure what it meant, that he was used to it now. That he could almost sense the way the air changed right before Cas appeared, the barely-there taste of copper on the back of his tongue.

“Is everything okay?” Sam asked, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear to cover his flinch.

Dean had thought they were meeting up with Cas later. Judging by the mutinous narrow-eyed look on Cas’s face, though, plans had been changed.

“You may return to the bunker, Sam,” Cas said, eyes on Dean. “I must have words with your brother.”

Dean’s heart kicked up a gear. Cas looked _pissed._

“Damn, am I in the doghouse? What’d I do this time?” he asked, shooting Cas a crooked grin that was not returned. If anything, it only made the harsh lines of Cas’s frown deepen, blue eyes eerie-pale with suppressed grace.

Sam looked back and forth between them, eyebrows raised. “Uh. So you’re gonna bring him home? He’s kind of injured, Cas...”

“I am aware.” Cas’s eyes flickered down to the red blooming through Dean’s grey shirt before back up to his eyes. Normally this would be the point at which Cas would heal him, two fingers pressed gently to his forehead until his skin was wiped clean once more. But Cas’s hands stayed by his sides, and Dean wondered if this was the part where he was supposed to start worrying.

It was very easy to forget that Cas was an actual angel, not just a good friend with a couple of useful magic tricks. Dean was always reminded of this at the most inconvenient times.

“Cas,” Sam said again, worried.

“I will take him home,” Cas said, with finality. “As soon as I am finished speaking with him.”

The dismissal in his voice was impossible to ignore. Sam shared a bewildered look with Dean and shook his head as if to clear it, holding out a hand. “Keys, Dean.”

Dean fished around in his pocket and then tossed the keys underhand to his brother. Sam caught them easily and crossed around to the driver’s side of the car, but he hesitated before he got in. The look on his face clearly said _I’ll stick around if you ask me to,_ with a brave set to his mouth. Dean shook his head _no, I got it_ , and that was all Sam needed before he opened the door and got inside.

“See you both at the bunker,” Sam called out through the half-open window before he took off, tail-lights blindingly bright as they streaked behind him.

Dean watched Cas. Cas seemed to be waiting for the car to be out of sight before he did anything, and Dean was starting to get actually freaked out again, like maybe Cas was going to tell him that Sam was doing bad demon shit again, or —

“Do you realize,” Cas said, dangerously quiet, “How close you came to dying this evening?”

Dean almost laughed. Was that what this was about? “Dude. C’mon. How many vamp nests have I taken out in my life? This was kids’ stuff.”

Electricity crackled audibly in the air. Dean’s shoulders tensed. He could still remember what it felt like to have windows explode around him when Cas spoke to him, enveloped by static, certain that the world was about to collapse around him.

He took an involuntary step back when Cas walked forward, but then his back was to the wall again, and he had nowhere else to go when Cas stepped right up into his space.

“This,” Cas said, touching the wound on his stomach, “Is not kids’ stuff, Dean.”

“So heal me,” Dean said, shrugging. “Fix me up like usual.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Cas slammed him back into the bricks and Dean gasped aloud, the pain he’d been battling off flaring up all at once. He grasped at Cas’s forearms, hanging on tight, stomach burning like he was getting clawed into all over again.

“Is this why you keep hurting yourself?” Cas spat out. “Because you think I’ll always put you back together when you’re done?”

“I’m not — hurting myself —” Dean tried, but Cas was pressing a palm to his stomach and he cried out, pain white-hot. “ _Stop_ , okay, Jesus, you’ve made your point —”

“I ought to leave you here, bleeding,” Cas hissed. “If you are going to keep undoing my hard work over and over.”

“Cas,” Dean said.

“Quiet.” Cas took Dean’s jaw in hand and turned it to the side with bloody fingertips, eyeing the handprint of bruises that were purpling around his throat. “Were you bitten?”

“What the fuck? No.” Dean’s heart was beating so hard he could hear the rush of blood in his ears.

Cas put his hand around Dean’s throat. Dean started breathing fast and rough when he realized that Cas was fitting his fingers carefully to the shape of the mark.

“Cas,” Dean said again, not one hundred percent sure what he was asking for.

Cas met his eyes, icy blue gone steel grey in the dim light, and then he was pushing forward to kiss him hard, lips demanding. That may very well have been what Dean had been pleading for, because he melted into it almost immediately. Cas licked into his mouth and Dean let him, even when the kisses turned rough and biting, even when Cas made a fist around a handful of his hair and yanked it hard enough to make his eyes water.

“Fuck,” he gasped as Cas kissed wetly down the side of his throat. He squirmed when Cas sucked hard over his pulse point, over the bruise that was already there. “ _Fuck_ , Cas. You’re only gonna mark me up more.”

“ _My_ marks are different.” Cas sucked another just beneath it, setting teeth against skin. Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. “Mine come from love.” Another, just beneath Dean’s ear.

Dean thought about the handprint scar on his shoulder and shuddered. “You’ve got a possessive streak a mile wide, dude.”

Cas squeezed the hand around Dean’s throat, and that shut him up. It wasn’t a hard squeeze, but it was a warning, and Dean decided to do as he was told for once in his life and closed his mouth with an audible click. Cas stroked his thumb over his adam’s apple as if to reward him for good behavior.

“Why do you insist on putting yourself in danger at every opportunity?” Cas asked, tipping his head to the side as he regarded Dean. “Haven’t you suffered enough?”

Dean had to look away, eyes flickering to the side. What could he say? Better him than anyone else, but he doubted Cas would accept that as an answer.

Cas’s eyes widened. His grip on Dean’s neck loosened, but he left it there, lying flat over his throat. “Is that was this is?” His fingertips traced carefully over the hickeys, so gentle after the harsh way he’d sucked them into Dean’s skin. “You think you deserve this?”

“Shut up,” Dean said weakly.

“Look at you,” Cas said. His eyes became awed, wondering, as he slid a thigh between Dean’s. Dean arched into it, only a little ashamed of how fast he responded, and very grateful that the street was abandoned at this time of night. Civilians didn’t need to walk in on him getting freaky with an angel in barely-concealed public.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted when Cas rocked their hips together. Cas slid a hand down Dean’s body, palming his ass briefly before he smoothed it down his thigh, then hiked his leg up. Dean hooked it around Cas’s waist. “Quite fuckin’ _teasing_ , man.”

“You want me to take you right here,” Cas said, mouth an inch from Dean’s. “When you’re injured, exhausted, and in no shape for strenuous activities. You want me to make it hurt.”

The pang of desire that made Dean’s stomach tense seemed to agree. “Cas...”

“I am going to give you what you deserve,” Cas promised, solemn. “Do you trust me?”

What the hell kind of question was that? Dean shot him a look. “Dude.”

Cas seemed to take this as an acceptable answer, and wrapped his arms around Dean tight. “Close your eyes and hold on,” he said, and Dean had a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and clutch Cas’s lapels before the world was splintering out from beneath them like a shattered window. They were in their bedroom in the bunker when Dean cautiously opened his eyes again, the floor reluctantly solid beneath his feet.

“Shit,” he said, and stumbled back a step. Cas caught his wrist before he tumbled, and Dean was dizzy enough that he didn’t fight it, just let himself get steered back toward the bed. “What about Sam?”

“Your brother is still forty-five minutes away from arriving,” Cas said smoothly, putting his fingertips to Dean’s chest to push him down into the mattress. Dean lay back with a grunt, stomach twinging, and watched Cas shoulder out of his jacket and drape it over the back of the desk chair. His tie followed it, then his shirt, and Dean tracked his movements with hungry eyes. There was something decisive about the way Cas undid his belt, a hardness on his face that was not usually present after battles.

Cas tended to soften a little, at home. The fact that he hadn’t yet was just as frightening as it was promising.

“Gonna give a guy a hand?” Dean asked, plucking at his t-shirt. Blood stuck the fabric to his skin.

Cas put a hand to Dean’s chest, and the shirt disappeared. He dragged his palm downward and Dean’s pants and boots followed, although he took the time to take off Dean’s underwear manually, expression unreadable.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, pad of thumb stroking through the neat thatch of hair between Dean’s legs and pressing down gently on Dean’s clit. “Do you want me to leave you in agony while I make love to you?”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean muttered. It was much more embarrassing to hear ‘make love’ than ‘fuck’, and he felt himself flush even as he shifted his hips a little to try and get Cas to move his thumb.

“Say it,” Cas insisted. He held Dean’s hips still with a hand pressed on top, fingers splayed. “Say it to me.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Yeah, I want it,” he admitted, voice strained. “I want it to hurt.”

Cas nodded. Then he bent to kiss Dean’s chest, right between his surgery scars, dragging his mouth downward, and Dean felt a familiar warmth and pressure down to the core that meant Cas was healing him.

“What the fuck,” he snapped. “Cas, I thought —”

“I told you I’d give you what you deserve,” Cas interrupted, raising his lips from Dean’s belly. His eyes flashed. “Not what you want.”

Dean gaped at him, mouth hanging open. It didn’t ache when he breathed anymore, but there was a new weight on his chest, he was pinned down by the intensity of Cas’s gaze.

“Give me your hands,” Cas said.

Dean did. Cas reached over to take his tie from the back of the chair, then he looped it around Dean’s wrists, knotting them together securely. So it was that kind of night — usually Dean would be making crass jokes about it by now, egging him on, but Cas looked so damn serious that he didn’t say a word.

Cas tied his hands to the headboard, and Dean flexed his wrists a little to feel the silky-smooth give of the tie against them. “This for you or for me?” he asked.

“Dean.” Cas looked slightly pained, if a little disappointed. His anger was still there, simmering under the surface, but his eyes were kind. “Be _quiet._ ”

Dean shut up.

Cas kissed him again, and Dean had been expecting sharp, furious kisses like before, but Cas kissed him very gently, held him down with a hand to his sternum and sucked on his tongue, set careful teeth to his lower lip.

Dean was trembling. He’d been shying away from falling into this soft kind of thing with Cas from the beginning; it was pretty telling that Cas had had to tie him up before he got him to kiss him like they were in love or something. Quick fucks between hunts or whenever they got especially restless were a lot easier to cope with than the honey-thick affection lurking in the married kisses Cas was dragging down his throat.

 _I didn’t want this_ , Dean thought, slightly panicked as he watched Cas work his way down his chest, down his belly. _I shouldn’t get to have this._

“This isn’t about what you want right now,” Cas reminded him, and sucked a kiss into the flesh of Dean’s thigh. Dean’s hips twitched. “And I take issue with second part.”

“You’re snooping,” Dean accused.

“A little,” Cas admitted, and bent his head.

Dean swore as soon as he got Cas’s mouth on him. Usually he’d have put his hands in Cas’s hair by now, just to retain some pretense that he was the one in charge, but his hands were otherwise occupied and he couldn’t do anything but arch his back and curl his toes.

He’d been reluctant to let Cas go down on him at first, because nothing was as potentially upsetting as a partner getting up close and personal with his junk like that, but God. Cas’s mouth was heaven. And it’d been too hilarious to hear Cas’s vodka-over-gravel voice growl _may I perform fellatio?_ for Dean to do anything but laugh and say, _yeah, Cas. Go for it._

Turned out, Cas _loved_ giving head. He did it with a dedication that bordered on religious.

And it turned out that Dean really liked letting him.

Now, straining against his bonds and choking on a moan, Dean couldn’t imagine not having this. Cas slung his shaking legs over his shoulders, rubbing his tongue insistently the way that drove Dean absolutely crazy, and reached a hand up to slip two fingers into Dean’s mouth for him to suck on.

Dean whined around them. Cas’s body always tasted a little electric, a little metallic — sometimes a bloody tang lingered on Dean’s tongue for hours after they were through, and he’d accidentally shock Sam with static when he clapped him on the shoulder. It really brought it home that Cas wasn’t human, under it all. The mind-reading and grave candor aside, he sure looked like a normal dude until you were making out with him and could taste his divinity, alien on your tongue.

Cas sucked, gently, and Dean came with a gasp.

Cas didn’t let up, though. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, muscles of his thighs jumping, Dean writhed under Cas’s mouth, eyes stinging. Every time he looked down, Cas was looking back up at him, gaze hot and searching. Dean didn’t know what he was looking for, so he didn’t know how to hide it.

Cas pulled off briefly, presumably for air, and took the opportunity to kiss the inside of Dean’s thigh, scraping teeth over sensitive skin. “Seeing you like this...” he murmured to the crook of Dean’s hip. “You have no idea what you look like.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean licked his lips. “What’s that?”

“ _Holy_ ,” Cas told him, with conviction, and bent back to his previous efforts with renewed fervor. He moaned into it, like he was really getting off on sucking Dean off, and Dean came again with a cry, eyes leaking. That seemed to be Cas’s cue to stop.

Cas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting as he sat up. Dean caught his breath, chest heaving as Cas crawled up his body and cradled his face in his hands, kissed him deeply, let him taste himself.

“May I penetrate you?” Cas asked, their lips brushing together as he spoke. Dean had heard a lot of guys ask if they could fuck him, but Jesus, no one did it like Cas. He nodded jerkily. “Very well,” Cas said. “Stay still.”

Dean couldn’t wipe his eyes with his hands tied, so he was left with damp eyelashes while Cas rummaged through the bedside drawer for a condom. His head was swimming. Cas joined him on the bed again, shoulders blotting out the overhead light, and his brows creased with concentration as he rolled on the condom and knelt between Dean’s open legs.

“I don’t understand you,” he said, hands at Dean’s waist as he entered him with one long, slow roll of his hips. “You. _Ah._ Frustrate me to no end.”

Dean groaned low in the back of his throat. “What’s your problem _now_ , man?”

“You asked me to hurt you,” Cas snapped, steely. He didn’t move. He just stayed with his hips flush with the backs of Dean’s thighs. “Because you think you don’t _deserve kindness_.”

“That ain’t —” Dean protested, but Cas silenced him with a thrust. Dean's head hit the headboard with a thud and a whimper.

“I will not be a vehicle of your self destruction,” Cas continued, and started to fuck him slowly, decisively. “And you ought to know better, Dean Winchester.”

Dean could do nothing but look up at him through his eyelashes, mouth half open. “Cas...” he said, helpless.

“Shh,” Cas said, and bent over him to kiss the unsaid words off his lips. “Shh. I have you.”

Dean didn’t realize his eyes were leaking again until Cas kissed the side of his face, mouthing the tears off of his cheek. He chased Cas’s lips, trying to kiss him, but Cas wrapped a hand around his throat again and held him down, pressing him into the pillow.

“Do you feel this?” Cas started to pick up the pace, free hand smoothing down Dean’s belly again, thumbing his clit as he fucked him. “Do you feel how much I love you?”

Dean turned his head away as best he could with Cas’s grip on his neck, breaths gone shuddery and ragged. Cas just kept it up, fucking into him with increasing desperation.

“This is what you deserve.” Cas was starting to sound a little rough at the edges too, and there was a bead of sweat that trickled down his temple when Dean looked at him again. “As if I would ever withhold my adoration from you.”

“Cas,” Dean rasped, clutching at the tie around his wrists, just for something to hang onto. Tension coiled up tight and white-hot in his gut. “God, _b_ _aby_ — _”_

“Take it,” Cas demanded hoarsely, hips snapping. “Take my love.”

Dean came, sobbing, throwing his head back and wrapping his legs around Cas tight as Cas fucked him through it. His arms went limp, body loose and pliant, and he just watched through half-lidded eyes as Cas thrust into him once, twice, three times, then stilled with a startled breath. His orgasm seemed to take him by surprise.

He slumped over onto Dean when he was done, breathing hard. They lay like that for a couple minutes, all tangled up with each other, and Dean focused on the weight of Cas's body on top of his own. His head was a mess.

He’d never doubted that Cas cared for him in some way or another, but it was a lot different to know it abstractly than to be confronted by proof.

He made a soft noise of protest when Cas pulled out, but didn’t move until Cas was through knotting the condom and started untying his wrists. The look on Cas’s face was slightly concerned, like maybe he was worried he’d gone too far, so Dean cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss once his hands were free.

“I’m sorry,” Cas murmured. “If that was inappropriate. Or —”

“Just what I needed,” Dean interrupted him firmly. “So shut up.”

Cas subsided, but the slant of his mouth was still unhappy, so Dean flipped their positions and rolled him onto his back, leaning over him. “Me too, okay?” he said. “All those things you said, back there. I’m not — I mean, I’m no good at this. But you know, don’t you?”

Cas reached up and stroked a lock of hair back where sweat had stuck it to Dean’s forehead. The awed expression had returned. “I do.”

Dean had to lean down and kiss that look off Cas’s face, long slow kisses, sloppy because he was worn-out and lazy from fucking.

 _I’m sorry,_ he thought, even as he shivered when Cas’s tongue stroked into his mouth. _That was a fucked up thing to ask you for._

“Dean,” Cas said softly, cradling his face between his hands. “Don't you realize? You are always, always forgiven.”

For once, Dean didn’t feel like yelling at him for snooping.

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings (that may trigger trans people):
> 
> \- downstairs parts are named, but not often  
> \- Dean is the receiver of penetrative sex, but consent is _explicitly_ given and discussed
> 
> I'm jewishcap on tumblr! Come say hi :)


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